Hermione Granger--Superhero Assistant
by mariteri
Summary: Hermione wishes to work her way through gradschool and calls her Grandmother for assistance in this. And when one's grandmother is none other than Peggy Carter, going to work for S.H.I.E.L.D. is pretty much par for the course. Several crossovers throughout the MCU. Rated T just to cover my bases. This story is completely and utterly a crackfic.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the MCU or any of the characters therein. And, sadly, I make no moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.**

 **Hello! Long time, no posting! Sorry about that. Note to self—no coffee (or any other drinks for that matter) are allowed near my laptop from now on. Yeah, totally my bad. Needless to say, I needed some of the triple "F" in my life—Frivolous, fluffy fun! This story is completely alternative universe crack and I make no bones about it. Enjoy.**

 **Please read and review!**

 **…**

 **Chapter One**

 ** _S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters_**

 ** _June 1999_**

Hermione made her way along with the others there, as they strolled over towards the offices. The testing had been painfully simple, but then most tests were for her. But what this next part was, was quite beyond her. They all stood outside of what looked to be an interrogation room. She watched as men and women—some dressed in SHIELD uniforms and others dressed in military gear went in and out of different doors in between each time one of the test takers went into the room. Where they went to from there, she didn't know. There was more than likely another exit that emptied into an area that would be free of the people being tested.

She looked around herself, taking in the appearances of those around her. Fifteen now and they were going through the queue quickly. Soon enough, Hermione was walking into the room. It was a simple white room with a mirror and door on one side of the room. Sitting in front of the mirror was a long table with five different men and women, all dressed in black. She looked over and saw a chair that sat a good distance away from the table. Irritation had her grabbing the chair and moving it so that it was now one meter away from the table. She sat down, looking over all the agents there and settled on the black man with an eyepatch dead center of the table. He was the man in charge, she told herself.

"My name is Hermione Granger and I am here to interview for the personal assistant position," she said crisply.

He sized her up and asked, "How many people are in this room."

She looked around and back over to him before inquiring, "I require clarification."

"Proceed," the man told her.

"Do you require to know where exactly they are at this moment? Who they are working for? Or any sort of reasoning why they might be here?"

This had them all blinking at her.

"Explain," the man snapped.

"There are seven individuals here that work for SHIELD and another three that work for HARP. You have three high ranking military officials—one from the Army, one from the Marines, and the last from the Navy. The Airforce representative is running late. It's a tie on whether it's traffic or something to do with national security. But seeing as everything and everyone seems to be going on as if everything is normal, my wager is on the car breaking down or traffic. Something very mundane to be sure, but this kind of thing happens to everyone."

"How did you know that there was supposed to be a man from the Airforce?" a younger woman to the man's left asked.

"Seeing as the other three branches of the American military were represented, it's only logical that the Airforce would be as well. That in combination with a short conversation that took place between the man from the Army and the woman from the Marines gave me the information."

This had them all taking notes, even as the man in the middle said, "You never finished answering the first question."

"In total in the room?" she asked to which the man in the middle nodded. "Twenty-seven."

They were all silent a moment before the man in the center of the table allowed the corner of his mouth tick up very quickly.

A man at the end of the table said in a tight voice, "But we're the only ones in this room."

"No," she said, pointing to both of the walls behind them and behind herself. "Those are temporary room dividers rather than walls. And as I was outside waiting for this interview, I counted doors as a way to entertain myself. It was when I was doing so that I began to count the people going into and out of all the different doors. And of course there is myself as well."

The man shut his mouth then, looking towards the man in the middle of the table. She was expecting another question when the hair went up on the back of her neck. Getting quickly to her feet, she used the folding chair she had been sitting on to disarm the man of the .38 in his hand. She knocked the gun out of his hand before she proceeded to use the chair to rush him backwards and colliding into the wall where she pinned him.

Looking to the man in the middle of the table, she asked, "Was this supposed to happen as a part of the test or did I just upset the man?"

"If I tell you that he is?" he inquired.

She hit him with the chair to his chest hard, knocking his head into the wall. Looking over to the man at the table and waited.

Again the man smiled. "And if he isn't?"

That time she kicked him right in the crotch, making him fall straight onto his face and holding his groin the moment Hermione stepped away from him.

The man in the center of the table stood and strolled over to her. "My name is Nick Fury, I am the new director of S.H.I.E.L.D. and you've just have been hired. Any questions at this time?"

She thought that over and asked, "Did you know that your last name is a volatile emotion?"

His mouth ticked up in the corner quickly. "Yes."

"Very good then," she replied. "Whom will I be working with, sir?"

…

Phil looked around the office for what must have been the tenth time within the last three minutes and wondered yet again what he was doing there. Well, he knew what he was doing there. He had worked his ass off and made it to the position that had him being the head handler. But up until this time he had been in a small corner of a hive of other workers. One of many and now he was in charge of all of them. He had been in charge of others when he had been in the Army, but this had a completely different feel.

His office door opened and he watched as Director Fury walked into his office with a petite woman in a business pant suit. She had to only be, what, eighteen? Nineteen? What the hell would a kid be doing working for S.H.I.E.L.D.? If that weren't enough, it looked like the only thing controlled about her hair was the pins fighting to keep it up out of her face. It was a fight the pins were losing, as she had a frame of curls dancing around her all too young face.

"Agent Coulson, this is your new personal assistant Hermione Granger." And with that he turned, leaving them there staring at each other.

"Lovely to make your acquaintance, sir," she said, stepping forward to shake his hand.

"You as well, Miss Granger," he replied. "Please don't think me forward, but just how old are you?"

"Twenty," she told him, looking to the door. "May I close the door so we may speak in private?"

"Of course," he said, moving around to sit at his desk.

She shut the door, sitting at one of the guest seats. "I am currently working my way through school. I'm writing my dissertation for my mastery in Mathematics and later I'll be working on my Ph.D. in the same." She worried her lower lip. "I'm still thinking about getting my post-graduate degree in Ancient Languages and Symbols as well, but given how much I work with them, it's nearly a given."

"You're a genius," he stated. "If that's the case, why work for S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

She blushed slightly. "I phoned my Gran when it became clear that my parents were well and truly missing. She's not at all well, but even so she made some calls on my behalf." She grinned. "And this is the kind of job one gets when Margret Carter makes such calls."

"Ah, I see," he murmured.

Clearing her throat, she said, "Now if you can tell me what I can do in order to make your job easier, I'd be grateful. I haven't a clue what an administrative assistant is supposed to do."

He allowed himself to crack a grin. "You and me both."

"Then allow me to ask one of the most important questions."

Phil arched his brow and waited.

"How do you take your coffee?"

"Black."

Smiling she said, "A man after my own heart."

 **TBC…**

 **…**

 **And there's the first chapter going out to you! Thanks for taking the time to read my story. Please if you could, review. I've been real bad about getting back to my reviewers as of late and I wish to apologize for that. Everyone's reviews are important and I will be trying my best to get back to everyone that took the time to do so. Thanks for your time and I hope everyone is having a grand day.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the MCU or any of the characters therein. And, sadly, I make no moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.**

 **Hello and welcome to another exciting chapter! Read! Enjoy! Review!**

 **…**

 **Chapter Two**

Phil had thought he was the most organized person on the planet. That is until Hermione Granger became his personal assistant. The woman was so organized as to make him pale in comparison. Color coding, the Dewy Decimal System, and, heaven help them all, numeric runes (he didn't even know what they were until she explained them to him) were but the tip of the iceberg.

"Why runes?"

"Do you want just anyone to come look at your files and know what they're looking at?"

"No."

She just stared at him.

"Makes sense. Now if you can just teach me the runes."

"That goes without saying," she replied and went about doing just that.

When she was finished explaining them to him, he was amazed just how simple the system she set up was.

"Did you dumb it down for me?" he inquired.

"Whatever for?" she asked him. "You're not an idiot." She stood up straight, stretching out her back as she explained, "The trouble with most systems where one is attempting to keep others at bay or unable to figure them out is that people generally overthink them. If you keep it simple, chances are that they'll figure it out by the time you change the system or pattern, thusly giving them a whole new maze to figure out."

He looked down at his desk and back over to her. "What if they figure it out before then?"

"The runes themselves are very misleading. If they go by the translations of them, which I think would be the case more times than not, they'll be misled by what they think they discovered. And because of this, we'll have a basic understanding of just when they looked at the files."

He thought it over and said, "Keep me updated as to the changes."

"Of course. The idea is to keep others in the dark, not you."

She was about to ask him about lunch, when a young man just about five or so years older than herself came charging into the room. Dropping into one of the guest chairs, he propped his feet onto the desk and was grinning broadly at Coulson.

"Moving up in the world, huh?" he asked, looking over to Hermione and winked at her.

"So it would seem," Phil answered, looking at the feet on his desk and back over to him.

Letting his feet drop to the floor, he asked, "Aren't you going to introduce me to the pretty lady, Phil?"

"Agent Clint Barton, may I introduce to you Miss Hermione Granger." His eyes sharpened as he added, "Not only is she far too young for you, but has proven to me that she is more than likely one of the best admins in this building."

"In other words, hands off?" He nodded. "It breaks my heart, but I think I can handle that." Clint looked over to Hermione. "Somehow I'll manage."

"Happy to hear it," she said with a grin.

"Ooh, and a Brit too!" He pressed his hands over his heart. "How you wound me, Phil!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "It's lunch time. Will you two be going over to the cafeteria or will you be attending to business here?"

"Business," Phil told her.

"Would you care for me to have lunch delivered for the two of you?"

"Do they even do that?" the younger man inquired.

"I'm sure if you pay them to and told them which office to take it to, they might. If that doesn't work for you, I can bring it back with me when I'm finished ordering my own food—that's if you don't care about the wait?"

"That would be the better idea," Phil said, pulling out a pad of paper and writing down what he wanted. "What do you want to eat, Clint?"

"The hot lunch special," he answered.

"And to drink?"

A bottle of water," Clint said, looking around the office. "You should get a minifridge in here, Phil. It would be great for those bag lunches you always bring to work."

Before Coulson could say anything, Hermione said, "I'll put in the acquisition forms for that as soon as I get back from my own lunch." She took the note from Phil and went on her way.

"Wow," Clint said, looking over to his boss. "Talk about scarily efficient."

"You have no idea," he answered, pulling out the file he needed to pass on to the agent in front of him. "The Red Room is back to their old games. They were warned the last time what would happen."

Clint now all business, asked, "Who?"

"The Black Widow." He handed the folder over to him. "Track her. See who her next target is. Ensure their safety if need be. Bring her down."

He looked over the file before asking, "And if I can turn her?"

"Clint…"

"You know that's always a possibility."

Phil gave a reluctant nod, but added quietly, "Some can't be saved."

"I know that," he said tightly. "But I was, wasn't I?"

Phil nodded again.

"You never know. I'll assess and pass on the information to you."

"Just don't leave the grid," Phil told him. "The new director isn't as forgiving as the last one."

"And he wasn't all that forgiving," Clint muttered. "I'll do my best. Again, I have to know what's going on first."

"Of course." There was a knock on the door and Phil told them to come in.

Hermione came in with two covered dishes on a tray. Placing them onto the desktop that Phil had cleared she placed one in front of Phil and the other in front of Clint. She set both of them up with their water bottles and silverware.

Standing up straight, she asked, "Will that be all?"

"For now," Phil answered. "See you after lunch, Hermione."

Smiling she nodded.

"Thanks," Clint told her.

"You're welcome," she murmured, closing the door behind herself.

Clint looked over to Phil and said, "How in the world did you manage to get her as an admin?"

"I don't know if they had a clue what a gem she was when they hired her. If they did, she would be working for Fury, I'm sure."

…

As first days of work went, it was brilliant. She loved the office, how she was able to get her say on how it was operated and how absolutely ordinary the job seemed to be despite the fact that it wasn't. When she had called her Gran, she really hadn't expected getting employment with the agency the woman had been the director of at one time.

She left at five, after asking Coulson if there was anything left for that day to take care of. He said no and went on to inform her that he would be in a meeting most of the next morning. They said their goodbyes and she went on her way home.

Hermione had no sooner stepped into the sitting room of her new home did her mobile ring.

"Hello?" she asked absently, as she was shedding herself of her lightweight business coat at her entry way closet.

"Hey Hermione! How was the interview?"

Smiling she said, "I got the job and started working already." When there was a pause on the other end, she asked, "Harry?"

"Already? Don't they need to run checks on you and the like?"

She was silent this time before saying, "I did tell you that my Gran was the former head of this agency, didn't I?"

"Actually, you didn't," he replied. "So they know your background?"

"Pretty much so," she stated. "Why?"

"Uh…"

"What did you do?" she demanded.

"I might have gotten it into my head…"

"You're not the type to think of these things," she muttered. "Try again."

She heard him give a long painful sigh. "So I might have gotten the idea from George to plant something in your records."

"What?"

"A fondness for goats."

Goats, she thought. It just had to be goats. "They're tasty."

"I meant as pets."

"They're great as pets I suppose," she said. "But you haven't lived until you've tried barbequed pulled goat."

"You're having me on."

"Yes I am, but it would serve you right if I made you retch, you interfering do-gooder."

"Hermione, you don't have to work your way through school. I told you that I would pay for it. I don't see why you're being so stubborn about this!"

"I'm going to earn my own way in the world, Harry. And although I appreciate it, this is something I need to do."

…

Director Fury and Agent Coulson finished listening to the recording of Hermione's conversation with her friend Harry Potter. Both sat there for a time saying nothing, thinking over what they had heard.

"She's funny," Phil said. "Great sense of humor."

"She reminds me of her grandmother in that way," Fury answered quietly. "Do you think she'd make for a good agent?"

Phil thought that over. He honestly would hate losing her as his admin, but would she make for a good agent? "I don't know enough about her one way or the other, sir. But I can say one thing with absolute certainty."

"And that is?" he asked.

"She makes the best coffee ever."

 **TBC…**

 **…**

 **And there you have it, another chapter dancing the hula into the Internet luau. Hope that you liked it. Thanks for reading and I hope that you're all hanging loose, bros.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the MCU or any of the characters therein. And, sadly, I make no moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.**

 **Greetings and salutations one and all! Hope that you guys are having a cooler day than I am. Anyway, thanks for reading. Enjoy!**

 **…**

 **Chapter Three**

 ** _Eight months later…_**

Hermione walked into Phil's office, separating the mail and laying it out on the desk before looking at her employer. He looked like he was fine. Trouble was that he wasn't. He was pensive and worried about Agent Barton, who had gone off the grid four months previous. Since then several top secret Russian bases had gone up in smoke and something had told Hermione that Agent Barton had helped out in this.

"Your mail is on the desk, you had no new E-mails if you discount the spam trying to sell you bargain basement Viagra from Canada and a check cashing scam out of Angola."

The corner of his mouth ticked up slightly. "Deleted them?"

"No, I forwarded them to Agent Barton. It's the least I can do seeing how he's not bothered to contact you," she replied. "Any word yet?"

He shook his head no. "Do you have your go bag ready?"

"Always," she told him. "Why?"

"Just in case we have to go out and get him," he told her. But just then something behind her caught his attention. Sitting up straighter, he said, "It's about time. What happened?"

Hermione spun around to see Clint standing in the doorway, looking more like a recalcitrant child rather than a grown agent. What was he about, she wondered, even as she went over to him.

"Welcome back, Agent Barton," she said, patting his arm. "Go sit down. You look exhausted."

Smiling, he said, "That I am, kid."

"Can I get either of you anything?" she inquired, looking from one then the other.

"I heard that you make some of the best coffee," Clint told her. "Can I wrangle some from you?"

"With such sweet words, I dare say you might even receive a carafe of it," she told him. "Along with the breakfast I'm fetching for the both of you. I'll be back shortly with both."

"You're a saint!" Clint called out to her.

A woman was leaning across from Hermione's desk when she went off to fetch the meals and coffee. The redhead was still there when she returned. She took the meal into the office and returned to her desk a minute later. Hermione didn't know what to make of the woman, but she did know that she appeared to have her senses working on overdrive. Every noise had her twitching, every new person had her body tightening and ready for action if it called for it.

"Excuse me?" the woman's eyes snapped over to her, sharp green orbs that assessed her in the split second that they landed on her. "Do you want to sit at my desk?" This had the woman confused. "You can see everyone, not to mention every doorway, with the exception of the second men's restroom in the second corridor to the east. But as the restroom has been closed for maintenance for the past three days—something that I do believe is happening because the new janitor is using it to get stoned in and watch television marathons of bad American sitcoms—it doesn't matter." Hermione got up and walked away from the desk, motioning to it. "It's safe."

"I'm fine," the woman answered, her voice low. "Thank you."

"You're most welcome." Hermione studied her a moment. "My name is Hermione Granger."

The woman didn't say anything, nor did Hermione expect her to.

Smiling kindly, she said, "You don't have to tell me." She motioned to the door. "I think we should go into the office where I can smack Clint Barton's head for being idiotic enough to leave you on your own in a strange place."

"I can take care of myself."

"I wager that not only can you, but you do so very well. But that doesn't mean you have to be on your own here. Come along and once you're seated, I'll fetch you something to eat as well."

"I'm not…"

"Nonsense, you're starved. If your stomach growled any louder when I had passed by you with the food earlier, I would have thought you had a dog with you."

She shuffled her into the office without even coming close to touching the other woman. Hermione looked over to a shocked Phil.

"Yeah, that's who I was trying to tell you about," Clint told Phil. "Agent Phil Coulson, this is Natasha Romanoff—formerly of the now defunct Red Room and one time Black Widow."

Hermione motioned her to one of the chairs. Once the other woman was sitting, she said to her, "I just want to let you know that what is about to happen is in no way your fault."

"Okay," Nat answered, wondering what the other woman was about.

She went over to Clint and smacked the back of his head. "What in the bloody hell were you thinking leaving her alone out there in a hive of activity? She doesn't know what's going on here and with the exception of you, she doesn't know who to trust! For all she knows, she's going to be tossed somewhere dark and scary." When all Clint did was stare at her, Hermione rolled her eyes and snapped, "Apologize to her. I'm going to fetch her something to eat."

"That would be aiding and comforting the enemy," Phil told her.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's obvious she defected."

"How do you know that?" Clint asked her.

"Because no woman in their right mind would wear men's boots in a size five times bigger than their own foot, duct taped to the pants they're wearing unless they absolutely had to. That goes for the rest of the outfit she's wearing, which is a mishmash of different men's sizes." She looked her over. "Do you wish for me to get you an outfit and shoes to change into for after your shower?"

"That would be nice," Nat answered quietly.

Hermione looked back over towards Phil, who gave a reluctant nod of approval. She looked over towards the woman again, saying, "I'll just fetch you a simple breakfast. What would you care to drink with your meal?"

"I-I don't know," she answered honestly. No one had ever given her the ability to choose before.

"Okay, I'll get you a milk and if that isn't to your taste, we'll try other things until we find something that you like."

Nat nodded to this, but said nothing.

Soon enough the former Russian spy/assassin was fed, showered and dressed in a standard S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform—the last of which Hermione apologized for. It was as Natasha was getting dressed in the women's dressing room for the S.H.I.E.L.D. Gym that they spoke to each other. Hermione was leaning on one side of a half wall outside of the showers, looking away as a way to give the woman some privacy and the other woman ever watchful for any sort of attack. This had more to do with the woman herself rather than any fear she might have of Hermione.

"It's not the best thing to wear, but it'll keep the weather at bay," she told her. "Let me know if you need anything else…"

"Why are you doing all this for me?" Nat asked her. Hermione turned to look at her to find that she was completely dressed. "I'm not a good person."

Hermione thought over her next words before saying, "There are very few genuinely good people in the world. And those who are, just want to blend or not be noticed because they don't want to be taken advantage of. The most the rest of us can hope to be is decent. Seeing to others, I suppose, is my way of doing that." When it became clear that Natasha was still confused, she added, "Allow the past to remain the past. What are you going to do now—that's the question."

She thought it over and said, "I want to clear the red in my ledger."

"Very good," she murmured. "I wish you luck with that."

Relaxing slightly for the first time, Natasha replied, "Thank you."

 **TBC…**

 **…**

 **There goes another chapter belly dancing onto the Internet. Thanks for reading and I hope that you're all having a fantastic day.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the MCU or any of the characters therein. And, sadly, I make no moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.**

 **Hey! Welcome to another chapter! I hope you like it. Enjoy.**

 **…**

 **Chapter Four**

Hermione was working on her dissertation when there was a knocking at her door. Looking at her watch, she was a bit surprised that not only was it well past midnight but someone was there to visit her at that time. Going over to the front door, she looked out the peep to see Clint and a pensive looking Natasha. Opening the door, she smiled at both of them as she showed them into her home. Stepping into the living room, both of them stopped dead in their tracks at the sight of mathematical equations covering the walls and books covering every surface.

"Needless to say, I don't have many guests," she murmured. "Come along to the kitchen. I actually keep that area decent."

It was while they were on their way over towards the kitchen that Clint asked her, "Aren't you going to ask us what we're doing here?"

"I figured you'd tell me when you were comfortable." She rushed over to the kitchen table scooping up a pile of books, her face going red. "Totally forgot that I was working on my doctorate in here yesterday during breakfast. Pardon me."

She missed the small snicker Clint did and even him saying, "I'm relieved to see that she's the absent minded type when left to her own devices."

Hermione joined them a moment later. "So are either of you hungry? I know of a Chinese restaurant that delivers until four in the morning."

"I could eat," Natasha said quietly.

"And you?" she asked Clint.

"Me too," he admitted.

Between the three of them the decided what to get and soon enough, Hermione had made the call and they were expecting the food within the next forty-five minutes.

She sat down next to them, studying them both for a time. "Having trouble with the adjusting. You can't sleep."

"How do you know?" Clint asked her.

"If there's one thing I know, it's the inability to sleep," she told them. "There have been times I haven't slept for days and end up crashing for about a week. It hasn't happened for a time, but when it does…" She sighed heavily. "It's bad."

"Why?" Natasha inquired.

Hermione's lips pursed. "What did you hear about an underground war in the UK?"

"There wasn't…"

"It's been happening on and off for the past fifteen years," Natasha spoke over Clint, who was now looking at both of the women in shock.

"Actually this last war ended in 1998," Hermione told them. "On May 2nd, 1998 to be specific." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly before looking towards them, seeing that they understood what she wasn't saying just as much as what she was.

"There was an underground war that S.H.I.E.L.D. didn't know about?" he asked.

"I suspect that they did know," Hermione murmured. "And that it was more than likely the reason the former director is now the former director." She picked at the table cloth. "I don't know the details as to the why, but it wasn't pretty and that he was given a choice of retire or be retired in the fashion that either of you would have been called in to see to."

Clint hissed at that, leaning back. "So what was your part in it?"

"I was undesirable number two and the brains of what was called the Golden Trio," she told them. "I still have some of the wanted posters just to keep me humble."

"How so?" Natasha asked her.

"Because life is a temperamental beast where one day seems normal and the next you end up as public enemy number two because they just hate that you exist." She leaned back in her chair. "It's part of the reason I left England. I love and trust my friends, but I just can't trust how easily everything just supposedly went back to normal after the war was over."

Natasha nodded in understanding. "The things that started the war don't just vanish because the war ended."

"Exactly. And no one wants to admit that there still is some upheaval left to deal with once the dead were buried and the trials ended." She picked at the table cloth again. "So I started going to school, started calling my family here in the states, and buried my parents with their help."

"Your parents?" Clint asked quietly.

"Murdered as a way to find me and my friends," Hermione told them. "I brought them back over to the United States with my Grand's help and we buried them here."

"It must have been a comfort to have your grandmother's help," Natasha said.

She nodded, but said, "But there's some things I have never been able to ask her or any of my cousins."

"That is?" Clint inquired, hoping beyond hope that it wouldn't have anything to do with sex.

Hermione ended up biting her lower lip. "It's not terribly important to anything other than my ego."

"What?" Clint asked gently.

"Do men care about scars?" she asked quietly. "I haven't even tried to be with anyone since…since I was tortured. I-I just want to know if men care about these things."

"No," Clint assured her. "Real men don't care about that stuff and if they do, it's more to do with your wellbeing than anything."

Hermione thought that over. "Thank you. I knew being discerning would be the key, but even more so than I thought." She studied Nat. "Are you at all comfortable in that?"

"Not really," she answered.

She looked over to Clint. "And you've must have been wearing that same outfit now for what? A week?" She got to her feet. "I think I have some of Ron's T-shirts that I borrowed from him that will fit you as well as some men's sleep pants as well."

"Who do the sleep pants belong to?" Natasha asked.

"Oh, I always keep them on hand," she answered. "I'll get you a towel and the clothing. Come follow…" There was a knocking on the door. "Clint, can you get that while I get Natasha set up?"

"Sure," he answered, as they went their separate ways at the stairs.

Approximately ten minutes later they were all set up in their lounge wear, eating their Chinese food, and watching the movie A Beautiful Mind.

"I heard that they had an open marriage as he was bi or gay," Hermione muttered.

"I read his biography," Natasha said, looking up at the screen. "The man was never that personable from what it said."

"And his wife wasn't that much of a looker either," Clint said, which had the two women looking over to him without a word being said. "Just saying."

Hermione snickered even as Natasha and Clint grinned.

By the end of the night, both Nat and Clint were asleep in the living room and Hermione was working on her dissertation in her kitchen. True, she wasn't sleeping, but she did her work with more ease than she had in a long time and with a smile on her face.

 **TBC…**

 **…**

 **And there you have it, another chapter doing the shuffle into the Internet disco. Thanks for taking the time to read, review, not to mention, follow/favorite. It means more than I can express. Thanks again and I hope that you're all having a Bee Gees filled day.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the MCU or any of the characters therein. And, sadly, I make no moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.**

 **Hello! Hope everyone is staying the chill individuals you all are. Here's the next chapter. Enjoy!**

 **…**

 **Chapter Five**

 **Culver University**

 **May, 2003**

The people running in the opposite direction really should have given Hermione the clue that something was going very wrong on the campus. But as she was going over a paper she was going to be presenting, she wasn't exactly paying attention to much. It wasn't until she heard the first scream that her head popped up.

"Well, shit," she sighed, stuffing away the paper she was going to be presenting into her messenger bag and saw for the first time that the trouble was over at the physics building.

Even though she may not have known what exactly was going on, she wanted to help where she could. She rushed over into the building and saw students cowering in corners, flinching at every roar and every shimmy the building made.

She went over to the closest students, grabbing two of the student's arms. "Come on!" She pulled them along. "We need to get out of here!"

"But…" one of them stammered.

"Staying here isn't safe either!" Hermione snapped. "The building…" It shook again. "…It's the building or whatever is doing it to the building! But we need out of this place now!"

Hermione managed to get five out the first trip. And another seven the next. It was in the middle of getting back into the building that her mobile rang.

Answering it, she said, "What?"

"Are you safe?" Phil asked her.

"Safety is relative," she replied just as the building shook so hard to make her loose her balance and hit the ground hard.

"Hermione!" he yell.

"I'm fine," she gasped, rubbing her ribs. "I'm helping with the evacuation of the physics building. Whatever the hell is in here is shaking the structure hard." She curled up against the wall as the ceiling near her began to rain like snow. It was hard breathing that had her turning her face slowly until she was face to face with a very big, very green man—and he didn't look happy at all. Swallowing thickly, she said, "Phil?" There was no sound on his end for a moment, as the fact that she called him by his first name hit him hard as to the importance as to just how bad the situation had gone.

"What's happening?"

"There's a huge green muscle bound man sniffing me," she breathed, trying as she might to remain calm. "And he's growling. I don't know if that's good or not…"

He roared when he was shot at several times from a few machine guns that had the beast running away from Hermione. None of the soldiers bothered to check on her as they raced after the green individual that they had shot at.

Letting out a long breath, she said, "Phil, I'm going to do something I've never done before."

"What?"

"Fuck the presentation. I'm going home." She stood up and walked out of the building. "I need a ride."

"Sit tight. I'm on my way."

"And, Agent Coulson?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to need a stiff drink."

"Liquor isn't good for shock," he told her.

"Perhaps not," she replied, looking up at what was one of the biggest holes she had seen in a building that hadn't taken down the modern architecture that punctured it. And it wasn't just one hole, but several going through several stories of the building. "But I'll be having a strong whisky nonetheless."

…

Hermione sat across from Phil at the diner. He had managed to talk her into getting something to eat. Her hands were wrapped around a mug of tea, which was warming her hands more than her stomach. Even forty-five minutes later there was a slight shake in her hands.

Taking a deep breath, she asked what she had wanted to ask since he had picked her up in the standard SHIELD car.

"What happened?" she asked, knowing that he couldn't go into great detail, but a bit of an answer beat none at all at this point.

"Scuttlebutt has it that there was an accident," he told her, motioning over to the waitress to order their meal. "What did you see?"

"I was going over my paper," she said quietly, thinking over what she was doing in her mind. "I didn't even know anything was wrong until I heard the first scream."

"Why didn't you run away?"

"I knew that I had to help," she told him. "Not save the day kind of help, but at least get those too scared to flee to do just that."

"How many do you think you helped?"

She thought it over. "About fifteen…I think. There could have been more following us that I never saw." She shrugged. "I can only hope that all the students got out unharmed." She took a sip of her tea, sighing, "They're going to have to rebuild the physics department."

Phil snorted and said rather dryly, "That goes without saying."

"Considering everything, it could have turned out much worse," she told him.

This had her boss looking at her as if to ask just how that could be.

"He wasn't twelve feet tall with a club, thinking that I might make for a good appetizer," she replied.

"And have you met a being such as you just described?"

"I cannot confirm or deny that," she replied, telling him in such a way that she would hope that he didn't ask anything more. She just wasn't ready to go down memory lane in such a manner, no matter how supposedly harmless this might be. "But needless to say, completely unimportant at this time."

"If you say," he murmured. "What are you going to do about your doctorial paper you were going to present today?"

"I made a call to Dr. Lynch while I was waiting for you," she told him. "I explained what happened and he told me that he understood completely. He rescheduled my dissertation."

"Good," he said quietly. "Do you know what you're going to do once you have your Ph.D.?"

She set her tea mug down, telling him, "Would it be so wrong if I wanted to stay working with SHIELD?" Hermione looked over to him. "I feel like I just finished climbing a mountain and now I need a rest before trying to find another peak to scale."

He grinned at that. "You're brilliant, Hermione. You should be doing more than taking care of me with my poor office skills."

She scoffed at that. "You, sir, are close to having the same need to organize to death everything in your path as I do. So not another word about your supposedly poor office skills."

Clint strolled into the diner, slipping into the booth next to Hermione. "What's this I hear about a big green monster over at Culver?"

"There was a very green, very big, not to mention, very angry man, I think, tearing apart the physics department being chased about the place by the Army who were trying to shoot him for all the good it was doing, as the bullets appeared to bounce off of him like they were rubber," she told him, but then paused and said, "Given all the questions I have at the moment I just can't seem to shake one thing."

"What's that, kid?" Clint asked.

"Given how his clothes were shredded, chances are that he was a normal sized man at some point. That being said, how the hell was he able to keep his masculinity from showing? All his other clothing tore like tissue and yet miraculously his pants stay in one piece where it counts." Clint was barely able to keep from laughing, but totally lost it when she added, "There might be people who would pay good money for pants like that."

 **TBC…**

 **…**

 **Another chapter has come to a close and is making its way across the Internet skies. Thanks for reading and I hope that you're all having a chill day.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the MCU or any of the characters therein. And, sadly, I make no moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.**

 **Howdy! Hope you're having a great day. Thanks for reading. Enjoy!**

 **…**

 **Chapter Six**

 ** _Hermione Granger residence_**

 ** _Two weeks later…_**

The sound of someone ringing her doorbell had Hermione stumbling over to the front door half asleep. She hadn't bothered with trying to sleep until after her dissertation the day before. That being said, she took the next day off if only to sleep. And seeing that this was so far the only time she had ever asked for a day off, she was given it without complaint.

Opening the door, she looked out to see none other than the director of SHIELD. Director Fury was standing next to a tired looking middle aged man, who looked to have had less sleep than she had.

She motioned them into her home, shutting and locking up behind herself.

"What can I do for you, Director?" she asked, casually. "I mean other than getting us all coffee that is."

Smiling he said, "I've heard tales about that coffee of yours, Dr. Granger. I must admit I've been wanting to try it for some time now."

"Come along then," she murmured, motioning over towards her kitchen. "But first, shouldn't you make introductions, sir?"

"Of course," he said, looking over towards the man next to him. "Dr. Hermione Granger, this is Dr. Bruce Banner."

"Lovely to meet you, sir," she said, nodding towards him as she was going through the motions of making the coffee. "Would you care for coffee or a cuppa?"

"Cuppa?"

"Cup of tea?" she inquired.

"Tea sounds nice," he murmured. "Thanks."

"No problem," she replied, as she put on a kettle for the hot water. "Now that we've gotten most of the niceties out of the way, what may I do for you, sir?" Looking directly over towards Director Fury, she added, "Given all the time I've worked at SHIELD now, it must had taken quite a bit of motivation for you to visit me this first time."

His lips twisted for a moment, before saying, "That there is, Granger. Did you hear about what happened over at Culver two weeks ago?"

"The big green man?" she asked him to which he nodded. "Yes, actually I was there for that."

"You were?" Bruce asked, looking like he was about to faint at this news.

Hermione moved quickly and had the man into one of the kitchen chairs before he knew what was going on. She kneeled next to him, studying his face.

"When's the last time you ate?" she inquired.

"That's not…"

"Nonsense," she cut him off quietly. "Food, so I'm told, is one of the pyramid of needs." That had the man nearly smiling. "Eggs sound okay to you?"

"That'll be fine," Bruce answered.

She looked over towards the Director. "And you, sir?"

"Anything you make will be fine," he replied. "There was an accident in one of the labs."

"I figured as much," she said, as she pulled together the breakfast of egg cups rather quickly and had them into the oven. "May I ask what happened or do I not have enough clearance?"

"You have the clearance," Fury assured her. "The U.S. Army has been trying to resurrect the super soldier project from back in the '40's. The one that your grandmother was involved in as a matter of fact."

She put on the timer and sat down at the table with them. "I thought the original method was lost."

"It was," Bruce told her. "I was trying a new method."

"Completely new or are you still using the same formula injected into Captain Rogers but a new way to jump start it?"

"You know quite a bit about the original super soldier project," Bruce said casually.

"I know enough to be dangerous," she admitted. "But I also know how to keep my mouth shut when it counts." She went over to the coffee maker, pouring the Director his coffee. "Cream or sugar, sir?"

"No thank you," he replied, as she set it in front of him. Taking a sip of the coffee, he let out a long sigh. "Damn. You should have been my admin."

Grinning to herself, she went about making Bruce's tea. Once it was done, she took it over to him with the question of, "Would you like anything in your tea?"

"No, thanks," he replied, sipping on it before getting on with the story. "The drug formula is pretty much the same as Dr. Erskine's, but I came up with the idea of powering it with gamma radiation…" Hermione nearly dropped her own mug of coffee she was pouring for herself at those last words.

She set down the mug and looked over at Bruce, who was watching her as was Fury.

She went over and sat across from him. "Show me the math."

Bruce studied her a moment before saying, "I need some white boards."

…

Hermione didn't provide him white boards, but rather white walls. Bruce looked from the large black pen in his hand to the blank walls, as if to ask what to do with either.

"Go on with you," she said. "Write the math."

"But this is your bedroom!" he exclaimed.

"Listen up, Doctor," she told him. "I saved up these walls for something important. If that math isn't important, just say so."

His face went a bit red, but he got to work even as he told her, "You shouldn't make me angry."

She studied him a moment, as he kept up his work. She went over to him stopped him from writing and walked him over to a chair. After sitting him down, she made him look her into her eyes.

"Why?"

He flushed and mumbled an answer.

"What was that? I couldn't quite hear…"

"I turn into that green monster you saw!"

Thinking that over, she asked quietly, "He scares you?"

"How could he not? He killed…" He swallowed thickly. "He killed those people! That-that thing nearly killed my fiancée."

Sitting back on her heels, she studied him. "Do you recall anything that happened or are you counting on news or word of mouth?"

"The news had more than…"

"Okay," she interrupted him. "The first thing you need to learn is that the news, unless you can see that it's completely unedited, cannot be counted on to tell the truth. Are they lying? There's no way of knowing unless you've seen everything that happened without commentary."

"You're hard on the media," came from Fury.

"Let's just say that I've seen what yellow journalism is and can have people thinking that it's the absolute truth when it is furthest from the case," she replied tartly, looking towards Fury for a moment before looking back over to Bruce. "Next, may I ask you a few questions? I promise that they won't be intrusive and if you don't want to answer them, you don't have to."

"Okay," Bruce whispered.

"I suspect that your fiancée must have been at ground zero when the accident happened. Am I right in this?"

He nodded.

"Was she the only one injured?"

"No," he breathed.

"In other words, anyone near to you would have been injured if not killed, correct?"

Realization to what she was saying hit Bruce and he said, "Yes, but…"

"But what? Are you taking responsibility for an accident that could have very well have killed everyone in that place?"

"I was in charge of the project," he told her somberly. "It was my fault."

"And nothing I say will change your mind in this?"

"No."

She nodded to this. "Okay. Next, I strongly suspect that those that the very big, green man you turn into did injure and kill was out of self-defense." She stopped him from speaking by holding up her hand and saying, "I was there. I managed to get students out of the building to safety. I, in fact came face to face with the big green man that you became." Bruce's eyes widened in horror. "All he did was sniff at me."

To say that Bruce was puzzled by this was an understatement. "He what?"

"He stopped in his tracks, he even stopped growling, and he leaned down to sniff at me," she replied. "The only time I saw him become violent was when he was being shot at by the Army." Standing up, she said, "Self-preservation is a part of the primal part of us that is wired into our brains like the need to eat, sleep, and watch Jerry Springer despite there being a documentary about Newton being on." That gained her a slight twist of his lips. "Now will you please show me that math?"

 **TBC…**

 **…**

 **Another chapter has finished up its rant and is jabbering along into the Internet. Thanks for reading and I hope that you're all having a headache free day.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the MCU or any of the characters therein. And, sadly, I make no moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.**

 **Hey! There you all are. Thanks for coming and (wait, wait, I have them here somewhere…) Here they are! Take a chapter and pass along the rest. Please if you could, write your reviews on the last paper in the back. Enjoy!**

 **…**

 **Chapter Seven**

Hermione went over the math, sipping on her coffee. She had been watching Bruce writing out the formula, as well as the math for the better part of the night. Fury had left some time past midnight, but told her not to bother going into work the next day.

"For the moment this is your priority," he told her.

"Should I call to let Agent Coulson know that I won't be in?"

"Yes, but keep your details vague," her employer ordered her.

She made the call, leaving a voice message and left it at that. And in the end it really didn't matter, as Phil was far more perceptive than the director gave the man credit for being. Hermione knew the very moment that her wards were penetrated and even went out to take coffee to Clint and Natasha.

"Coulson wants eyes on you as long as the Doc is here," he told her.

She thanked them both quietly and left the coffee as well as a snack hamper there for them. Once she was back into the house, she went back to watching Bruce writing out all he had done to date on the project.

It wasn't until that next afternoon that he was finished with his work and looked over to Hermione only to find that she wasn't there watching him. The smell of warming soup and cooling fresh bread had him wondering into the kitchen. She had him sitting down at the table and she sat down a bowl of soup, as well as a basket of biscuits.

"Split pea?" he asked her. "Is there meat in it?"

"Normally I would, because bacon is heavenly," she told him, making him grin. "But I wanted to test out my theory that smoked paprika mixed with coconut oil could make for a good substitute for all that beautiful bacon goodness."

"Bacon isn't good for you," he told her.

"Neither is coffee, but they're my only vices. So leave me to them," she said, picking up her mug and sipping on her brew. "Coffee is a powerfully wonderful elixir." She looked over to him, asking, "Are you done writing?"

"The summation," he replied. "I figured that would give you enough of an idea of where it could have gone wrong."

She nodded to this, telling him, "Eat up. I'll go look over what I haven't seen yet and let you know what I think."

"Thank you," he murmured. "And I don't just mean for the help with the math." He blushed. "Thanks for being so…nice."

She sat back down again, thinking over her next words. "When I was younger, I was thirteen at the time, I made a mistake in chemistry. I ended up in the hospital wing of my boarding school for the better part of a month." His eyes went wide at her words. "It gave me a lot of time to think. Accidents happen even under the best of circumstances. We may do everything in our power to do things right, but all it takes is one misstep—that one something we never see we've done wrong. And then _pow!_ It's done." She studied him a moment before saying, "We both are thinkers. I can see as much when I look into your eyes. I overthink more times than not. And something tells me you can as well. It can be one of our strengths. But in a situation like this, it can be to our detriment." She got up and held his face in both of her hands, making him look her in the eyes. "Just remember one thing for me."

He just stared at her waiting for her to say what she needed to.

"They're called accidents for a reason, Bruce." She kissed his forehead gently and went on her way to look over the math.

…

Two things stood out like sore thumbs to Hermione, but even so the math wasn't complete enough for her to put her finger as to the cause. She didn't know what to say to Bruce. This was an outline, she told herself. If she wanted to see the full picture, she needed to see all of the math. But that being said, how in the world was she going to be able to come to any sort of conclusion without Bruce quizzing her to the point of irritation.

And so she did the one thing she knew she had to. She called Director Fury.

"Do you have any answers yet, Dr. Granger?" he asked her.

"I have more questions, sir," she answered. "I need to see the entirety of the mathematics. There should be more than one copy out there along with notes, I wager. And as Bruce can't get them in person…"

"I'll have it to you as soon as possible," he replied and hung up.

Hermione closed her mobile and ended up reclining back into her large chair, letting out a long gusty sigh as she looked at the math in front of her.

"Do you have answers yet?" Bruce's question startled her out of a semi-doze. He blushed and stammered out an apology.

"Don't worry about it," she murmured, as she stood up stretching. "I need to see more. I made a call and the Director will be doing his best to get the whole of it for me to look at."

"Have you slept at all?" he asked her.

"I took a couple of naps," she admitted. "In truth, I haven't slept more than few hours at one time since I was…" She sighed. "I was sixteen I think. Perhaps younger." She looked over to him. "How about you?"

"Not much," he told her. "I-I've been having nightmares."

Hermione looked saddened by this. "It was bound to happen. It's your mind attempting to process it all. Where is the logic in turning into the big green man you turn into when you get angry?"

He frowned. "How did you know that?"

"Why else tell me that it wouldn't be wise to make you upset?"

"Ah, yes," he said, now blushing. "There was that."

There was knocking on the front door. She went straight over to answer it after gently ordering him to stay upstairs. Natasha was there was a D-ring binder along with the empty thermos. Smiling Hermione let her into the house, taking the thermos, she went over to the kitchen with the woman following her.

"Tea or coffee?"

"Chai tea latte."

Hermione stopped and looked over towards Natasha, seeing her grinning as she put the binder onto the table. "The bird is tired of coffee."

"Very well," Hermione said, as she went to work on the tea. "But you might tell him that this is not a café and I'm pretty far off from being a barista. If he wants something fancier than this latte, he's on his own."

Smiling Natasha said, "Considered it passed along."

Hermione cleaned out the thermos properly as the tea was brewing with the spices in the milk. It was as she was shaking out the water from the thermos that she asked her friend, "Whose copy is this?"

"The man himself. We took it from the lab before General Ross could get his hands on it. They're riddled with notes as requested."

Smiling, she said, "Thank you, Natasha. True, I can ask the man, but notes can give a clearer picture sometimes."

"No problem," she replied. "How did your dissertation go?"

Hermione paused while she was pouring the tea. "I was worried until Director Fury introduced me as 'Doctor Granger'."

"Congratulations," she murmured. "You worked very hard for that." Natasha paused. "What will you be doing now?"

"I spoke to Agent Coulson," she told her. "I will continue to work for him for the time being, as I think over what I'll be doing next. I do know one thing though. I don't want to stay in the Ivory Tower. There is a time and a place for it. And it is time for me to move on." She paused in what she doing long enough to add, "Makes me glad that I finished up with the Ph.D. in Ancient Languages and Symbols a year ago."

"You already have a Ph.D.?" Natasha asked.

She smiled and said, "That was mostly for me. So it didn't feel as if it held the same import or challenge as the one for Mathematics. Silly, I know. But there's no accounting for somethings, I tell you."

Hermione poured the tea into the thermos and walked her friend over to the door. With some last words, they parted and Hermione took the binder up to the master bedroom. She was about to say something, but didn't when she saw that Bruce was sound asleep in the bed. What made this all the more memorable was that he was hugging the Teddy bear that Harry had bought her as he was doing so. She set the binder down and quietly covered him with a light cotton throw. With one last look, she went to work figuring out what had gone wrong.

 **TBC…**

 **…**

 **And there we go! Another chapter crafted and posted to the internet. Thanks for reading and I hope that you're having a radiant day.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the MCU or any of the characters therein. And, sadly, I make no moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.**

 **Bonus chapter! Wow. Have at it!**

 **Hey! Here's the new chapter. Read. Enjoy. Review.**

 **…**

 **Chapter Eight**

"There's more than your writing here," she said, studying the binder in front of her. "Yours is fairly easy to pick out. Messy script to be sure, but readable in the long run." She took it over to where Bruce was cooking. "See there's two other people's writing here. One belongs to a woman. It's a bit loopy and I found a little love note written in the same manner in one of the margins." Bruce blushed to which Hermione said, "It was cute, but I didn't read all of it once I saw that it was personal. I just read the first line and who it was from."

"Betty," he murmured. "It's Betty's writing."

"Your fiancée?" He nodded. "And whose writing is this?"

"What do you mean that there's another person's writing?" he asked, taking the binder from her even as she took the cooking spoon from him. She pointed it out to him on the paper, making him frown. "I-I never saw this writing before." He looked to the front of the binder and muttered, "This isn't my copy."

"Then why would Betty write a love note to you in it?"

"I had several copies of the math. I constantly lost them. She could have written a note in this copy thinking it was mine."

"But…" She stopped herself. "Okay, I have a theory." He looked to her. "This may have started out being yours, as there is not only a note to you, but your own writing in it as well. But it doesn't go past the midway point of the math."

"Okay," he said. "But where does that leave us?"

"You supposedly lose things all the time. But what if one or two of those times you didn't lose them, but rather they were taken?"

"But why?"

"It's a big top secret project with many a person wanting to hang their hats on this, correct?" He nodded. "Who stands the most to gain or lose by what happened with it?"

He thought it over and breathed, "General Ross."

"Is he the kind to want to have your work checked out by other people?"

"That and more," he muttered, a flash of green lighting his eyes.

"Bruce, if you get angry and green here and now, can you take out the half dead tree in my backyard?" He looked at her in shock. "The gardener wants me to pay him a small fortune to do it."

He just stared at her for a moment before asking, "Are you crazy?"

"No, I'm practical." She worried on her lower lip before saying, "Its odd how often the two are confused."

…

Hermione pulled out a set of car keys, as she walked Bruce over towards the garage. Opening the door, she practically put him behind the wheel of the car.

"What…" She handed him a messenger bag.

"You have several burner mobiles, as well as more than a few passports, driver's licenses and state I.D.s, and you have moneys all from different countries—including the United States. There's a rucksack in the trunk." She pulled out a piece of paper and handed it over to him. "That is my personal mobile number. It's a phone I just purchased so the number isn't well known. If you need help, any help at all no matter where you are, call me."

He looked at the number. "Why are you doing this for me?"

"Because you are my friend, Bruce." She leaned in and kissed his temple. "I hope that you're able to find your peace before next we meet."

"Thank you, Hermione," he murmured. "You're the best."

"Can I get that in writing? There are still a few people out in the world in doubt of that," she said dryly, making him chuckle. "Myself included."

"The best," he repeated, starting the car.

The car was down the street before Coulson joined her at the front of the house along with Clint and Natasha.

"You didn't tell him what happened," Coulson said quietly.

"If Dr. Banner was told at the moment, he wouldn't have been able to control the beast." She looked at him. "And trust me, he would have taken out the block with what I found out."

It wasn't until they were in the house that she bothered to explain to them what she had found.

"I suspect that General Ross had the math checked by someone who didn't know what they were looking at and they changed the math in such a way that it caused the accident," she told them.

"How did you figure that?"

"The original math was all there still. The notes here were transcribed again, but that contained the supposed corrections. I asked Director Fury to send me a newer copy of the math. It got here just before Bruce left." She opened up both and pointed out what she had been speaking about in each. "They either didn't know what they were doing or they sabotaged the experiment. In either case, we have a royally fucked up situation."

"You can say that again," Clint muttered. "You gave him the bum's rush."

"With the calling for the second copy of the notes, it would have alerted Ross that someone was paying too much attention to his baby, as it were. I wouldn't be shocked if he ended up coming here within the next day or two." She looked over to Natasha. "Can I use your guestroom for the next week or so?"

"Of course," she murmured. "And while you're my guest, we'll celebrate your new Ph.D.."

Hermione blushed with pride, as her friends congratulated her on a job well done.

…

Hermione's wards went off four days later alerting her as to something going on at the house. She never did much more than having several alarm wards on her residence. Just the thought of having to explain any sort of magic to her employers had her breaking out into hives. Five minutes after they alerted her, she received a phone call from one of her neighbors. Almost the entire block, with the exception of a few of the houses, was pretty much leveled. The excuse given was that it had been a gas explosion.

"What the hell did you do to your house to keep it standing?" Monica her next door neighbor asked her. "My house was standing because my grandfather was a paranoid old goat."

She tried to think of something to say, but could only come up with the truth. "Nothing, but I heard one of the former owners was a paranoid cold war profiteer." Natasha was trying to hold back a laugh when she said as much. "I guess their paranoia about who they saw as the bad guys nuking the east coast helped me out." Nat looked at her to which she shrugged. "Thanks for the call. Let me know if you need anything."

"I'm one of the lucky ones. The house was only scorched, but the garden is toast…literally." She paused in speaking. "You know given everything, I don't know what the hell the Army is doing here. If it was a gas fire, they wouldn't have a reason to be here."

Soon enough, she was hanging up and letting out a long sigh. "General Ross tried to get into my home it would seem." Grabbing up the remote for the TV, she turned on the local news. Sure enough, it was there. And as her neighbor had said, most of the neighborhood was gone. Being told what happened and seeing it were totally different things. Needless to say, the image had far more of an impact. There were only three standing houses with her own abode standing out even among them, as nothing seemed to touch it not even the flames as there wasn't a scorch mark or even a dent on her home. "What did that man do?!"

"From what I can see?" Natasha said, studying the film on the television. "Rocket launcher."

Hermione just stared at it for a time before she said, "I have no idea how my house managed to survive that mess. I didn't even know the house was so well protected! I wasn't the one that did anything to it." She looked over to her friend. "I haven't a clue how I'm going to explain this."

Getting up from her seat, all Nat said was, "I'll get the vodka from the freezer."

 **TBC…**

 **…**

 **And there's another chapter shimmying its way across the dancefloor into the internet. Thanks for reading and have yourselves a party filled day.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the MCU or any of the characters therein. And, sadly, I make no moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.**

 **New chapter! Hope you like it. Please read and review.**

 **…**

 **Chapter Nine**

 ** _Stark Press Conference_**

 ** _May 1_** ** _st_** ** _, 2008_**

"I am Iron Man."

Tony Stark's announcement had Phil Coulson covering his face with one hand. Hermione was standing next to him, feeling not shocked at all.

"I told you he wouldn't use it," she said quietly and proceeded to hold out her hand to him.

He pulled out his wallet, depositing a twenty into her hand. "Let's get going, shall we?"

"They have coffee and donuts here," she informed him.

"Yours is better."

"Yes, but this is free and it'll be at least an hour before we're back over at the office," she said casually. "Free trumps good unless it's absolute crap. In that case, I'll still drink it, but I'll be complaining the entire time." She looked over. "They have powdered donuts, Phil." She paused and leaned a bit closer. "Your kryptonite."

He managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes, but just barely. "Get me a few and a cup of coffee, please?"

"Sure."

She went over to the coffee and donuts, casually pouring two coffees in to-go cups. Hermione gave one a tentative sip, finding it acceptable. She went on to bundle up a few of the donuts for Phil, sticking them into her jacket pocket before putting lids onto the cups.

"Why do I get the feeling that you're not here for the announcement, but rather the free coffee?" came from behind her.

She turned sipping on her coffee, seeing that it was none other than Tony Stark that had spoken to her.

"Because you're a very perceptive man, Mr. Stark," she replied, as she walked away from him. "That's why you have top billing."

"And don't you forget it," he said, watching her walking away straight towards Agent Coulson. She handed him the coffee even as he joined them. "So did you like what I had to say, Agent?"

"He might not have, but I did," she told him. "You won me one thousand dollars with your announcement." She took a sip of the coffee and added, "Thank you for that."

He stared at her a moment before his face broke out into a grin. "You're welcome."

"Let's get on our way," Phil said to her. "Whatever work we had here is done."

"Don't leave on my account," Tony said to them. "I want to hear all about how this lovely lady won one thousand dollars."

"Boring story all in all," she admitted. "Now if you wanted to hear about how I managed to win a million dollars in Las Vegas…"

"I thought you said you got that money from an investment," Phil said, looking at her.

"It's all a matter of what you consider an investment." She sipped on her coffee.

"What did you invest in?" Tony asked her.

"Several poker games, a lovely bottle of single malt whisky, and I was given the hotel suite gratis." She sipped on her coffee again. "Though I must say that I thought it was rude that I was referred to as a whale, whatever they may have meant."

Tony laughed, telling her, "That sounds like fun."

"It was one of my first vacations in years," she told him. "I thought I'd make the most of it."

Phil by this time was glaring at her. Not that anyone other than her could tell, but she could and so she was going to do her best to calm him.

"Fine," she said, looking over to Tony. "It was lovely to meet you. Do try not to buy the rest of New York until after I have him calmed down or else there will be no dealing with him today."

"I don't have that on my to-do list until next week," he said dryly, making her grin.

"Very good. Bye!" She took Phil's offered arm.

The last thing that Tony heard her say was, "He doesn't seem as bad as advertised. But really there's no telling these things until you get a person drunk. 'In vino varitas' after all. Oh hold on…" They paused walking as she pulled something wrapped in a napkin out of her jacket pocket. "Here are your donuts."

A small smile graced Phil's face, as he said, "Thank you, Hermione."

…

 ** _Henry's Pub (Established in a year that's none of your never mind!)_**

 ** _Approximately five hours later that day…_**

The bar was dark and there seemed to be a gloom about the place that was ingrained into the pub like an aura it couldn't shake. And although the place was pretty well lit, it was hard to make out the patrons faces. Tony made his way over towards the bar, ordering the best whisky that they had.

"I would highly recommend that you do not lean on the bar," Hermione said, as she joined him there. She was looking down at the wooden surface with distaste. "Whatever is on it will more than likely either get you stuck to it or eat through your very expensive suit."

"Are you following me for SHIELD?" he asked her.

She scoffed at that, saying, "I was getting drunk here before you even darkened the doorway." She pointed her thumb over to where she was sitting. "Besides I'm not that kind of agent." She looked at her watch, letting out a long sigh. "It is now that day in May that I hate. Pardon." She pulled out her mobile and made a phone call. "Hey. It's me. I'm drunk and I know you are as well. This day sucks. Talk to you later." She paused, letting out a long sigh. "I miss you." She hung up and looked over to Tony, who was looking to her intently. "Well don't just stand there! There's whisky in this world and we are supposed to be drinking a dram or two."

"Sounds like a plan," he said. "But aren't there better places to do it?"

"I see what you mean, but this is one of the only places I've been able to find what I've been drinking," she told him. She took him over towards her booth. She sat down across from him, showing him a bottle of whisky. "This stuff is very rare here in the States. It's from this tiny brewery in Scotland that only makes one thousand bottles a year." She poured and prepared the whisky for him, handing it over to him. "Go on. I don't have anything contagious."

"That's good to know," he said, looking over the glass. "Why the water, glass, and the warming it with the lighter?"

"A professor of mine was from Scotland and she insisted that if one was to drink from her homeland that you did so properly. I got into the habit of it."

He smelled it and let out a hum before tasting it. He looked to her startled. "That's amazing."

She nodded. "Yes that it is." She waved over to the bartender. "Another glass, Henry!"

"Right away, Dr. Granger."

Tony's eyebrows shot up. "Doctor?"

"I have two . One in Mathematics and the other in Ancient Languages and Symbols."

"And yet you work for SHIELD," he said. "Something wrong with that."

"I've been able to do what I wish in my free time, when I have it that is. And I have to say that although there have been times I could tear someone else's hair out…"

"Someone else's hair?"

"I just was able to start controlling my tresses," she explained. "Perhaps before that point I would have done away with my own frizz. But as it now can be beaten into submission, it'll be someone else's."

"Good to know," he said with a grin. "Go on."

"I like my work," she told him. "It's the people I work with. They're superspies and whatnot. They're brilliant."

"And you trust them?"

She looked at him. "With very few exceptions in this world, it doesn't pay to trust." She motioned to herself. "Take myself for instance. I trust only a hand full of people."

"There are still good people in the world."

She nodded. "And then there are those people amongst us who want to set the world on fire just to see it burn." She sighed heavily. "And there are far more of those individuals out there in the world than you would think." Hermione looked over to Henry who had the glass. "Be a luv, Henry, and make that Sheppard's pie you've been bragging about?"

Smiling the older man nodded and asked, "Would the gent like some as well?"

She looked over to Tony, who said, "That sounds great."

Henry nodded and went on his way.

Tony looked over towards Hermione and asked, "You trust him to make anything edible?"

"It may not look it, but Henry's a chef. He keeps the front like shite because he hates Millennials and he doesn't want this place to become trendy. But that being said, his kitchen is spotless and his cooking is amazing. His fish and chips make me think I'm back in London." This had Tony busting up laughing.

She prepared him a whisky, setting it next to the man in front of her. He took it, sipping on it.

"So what are you commemorating?"

"Nothing you've ever heard of," she said. "Let me tell you a story. Way back in the 1970's there was a cult leader. Yes, I know there were so many of them back then, but this one was in the U.K. so somehow that's a bit different."

"True."

"So anyway there was this right bastard the cult leader and he killed my best friend's parents."

"Bastard!"

"Exactly! And when he did as much, he vanished afterwards and everyone thought he was dead."

"He wasn't?"

"You're getting ahead, but yes. He was still alive, but the majority of his fanatical followers were imprisoned and he wanted to kill Harry—that would be my best friend. So we ended up in a boarding school in the Highlands of Scotland…"

"Sounds cold."

"Fucking freezing," she replied without missing a beat. "And that right bastard kept trying to kill Harry year after year. We ended up on the run in what was supposed to be our last year of school." She downed the rest of her drink. "We-we were captured and taken in." Hermione looked into his eyes. "I was tortured." She fixed herself another drink. "For two hours they tortured me and when we finally did escape, don't you know I got hit with a fucking chandelier. I hate them now."

"I bet," he replied. "And it happened today?"

"No, today is the 2nd of May," she said quietly. "The final battle." She looked at him. "And before you ask, yes, we were in a war. A real war with weapons and death and everything I have nightmares about."

"Were my weapons used?" he asked quietly.

"Honestly? I don't know," she sighed. "I thought I was doing well trying to save lives without looking at who made the weapons." She sipped on her drink. "So why are you in this pretend dive getting drunk when there are so many better places you can go?"

He smiled. "Yeah, I just left a shindig that was boring as hell and I found this place. I don't know what I was thinking when I walked into here." He tapped his drink to hers. "But I'm glad I did."

 **TBC…**

 **…**

 **And there goes another chapter spinning its way into the internet. Thanks for reading and I hope that you're all having an excellent day.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the MCU or any of the characters therein. And, sadly, I make no moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.**

 **Just a quick note. Sorry, but I completely skipped over the action scene with the destroyer from the movie Thor. Honestly, they did it right the first time around and me rewriting it with Hermione included wouldn't have done this story any favors. Just wanted you to know. Thanks.**

 **Time for a new chapter. Are you ready? Well, here it is! I hope you like it.**

 **…**

 **Chapter Ten**

 ** _Puente Antiguo, New Mexico_**

 ** _September 15_** ** _th_** ** _, 2011_**

"That is one big hammer," Clint said from his perch overlooking the newly constructed area surrounding the mysterious artifact that so far no one there could lift.

"That's one way of putting it," Hermione said from next to him. "Why do I get the feeling that whomever the owner is uses the term 'hammer' as a way to describe their masculinity and why am I having the urge to say, 'That's what she said'?"

Clint let out a snort even as Phil said over their headsets, "I really didn't need to hear that."

Hermione looked over to Clint and said, "He needs to get out more. And more than to just date cellists in Portland."

"Oooh! Dad is dating again?" Clint asked, making Phil groan.

"Enough you two," Phil ordered. "Any activity?"

"Just the scientist and that big blond guy breaking in," Hermione said casually. "Nothing that big."

Clint looked over at her in a way to ask if she was joking, even as Phil said over the headset, "Are you kidding?"

"One never kids about things of this nature," she told them. She pointed towards where they were. "That way." Clint pulled out his binoculars and looked.

"She wasn't kidding boss. They're in. Orders?"

Phil was silent a moment. "See what they want. If he manages to pick up the hammer, we'll go to confront."

"I doubt he'll do it," Hermione said, sitting down. "He would have done so by now if that were the case."

"True," Phil told her quietly. "But there's no telling what could have happened."

"Yes, like you coming back out of the minimart at the gas station covered in flour…"

"I'm still not telling," he repeated. "You should have been awake."

"You're only saying that because I have the utter gall to not have a driver's license."

"Wait—you don't know how to drive?" Clint asked her.

"I know how to drive. It's just advisable that I don't," she said casually.

"Yes, I was there. Trust me, Clint. You don't want her behind the wheel," came from Phil.

"I do believe that Director Fury said it was for the best of mankind." She pouted. "I may have been bad, but surely not that bad."

"Yes that bad," Phil told her, making Clint laugh even as he was watching his friend rolling her eyes. "Hermione, you parked the car…"

"It wasn't that bad of a parking job!" she told him, even as she turned to Clint and added, "I didn't hit a single person."

"…inside a Red Robin and proceeded to ask if they could just serve you right there in the car so you could all wait for the police to show up."

"They took my license after that and told me that mass transit wasn't as bad as advertised," she sighed, turning to look at where the hammer was. "We have action."

…

 ** _Main Street, Puente Antiguo, New Mexico_**

 ** _Post-Battle with the Destroyer…_**

"How did you keep from becoming crispy, Hermione?" Clint asked her.

"I would like to know that as well," Phil said, studying her intently. "I don't know how you managed to do it, but you kept it from setting all the SHIELD agents there on fire as well."

She nodded, just as Fury entered the café. He sat down next to her, studying her intently.

"There's a statute of secrecy," she said quietly. "There are those who wouldn't be very happy that I did what I did, even if it was to save lives."

"I spoke to a man named Kingsley Shacklebolt. We came to an understanding."

"That's good to know." She let the tension flow from her body. "So I may speak of my gifts?" Her employer nodded. Hermione looked over towards Clint and Phil. "I want to make this clear—if I thought I could tell you about this, I would have years ago. I hate secrets. They make life so much more complicated than it should be." Clearing her throat, she said, "I'm an elemental mage. I was born one to two non-magical people. There's an entire world of magic out there, but it's all underground. It has been so for well over a thousand years."

"So you can do magic?" Clint asked her to which she nodded. "I'm shocked you aren't doing it all the time."

"Who says that I don't?" she inquired, studying him. "I'm just very covert about it all. And there's that saying about there being a time and place for everything. Magic is no different."

She picked up a paper napkin, looking around them and seeing that no one was paying attention. Quickly she crumpled up the paper into a ball, tapping it, and sent it rolling over towards Clint. It rolled once or twice before it seemed to reform into a running boy that jumped up and turned into a paper bluebird that flew back over towards Hermione. She ended the charm and flattened out the napkin once again.

"Wow," Clint murmured in awe.

"There has to be more you can do than that," Fury said.

"Of course there is," she told him. "But there is a time and place for everything, remember?" She looked over to Phil. "I wish I could have told you sooner, but that being said why were you covered in flour?"

"Secret for a secret?" he asked her.

"Whatever works," she replied. "Why were you covered in flour?"

"That's a state secret," he replied, getting up. "Get ready to hit the road, Hermione. We're out of here in ten." He strolled away without another word.

She looked over towards Fury. "If I can give you the address can you get the security footage…Of course you can! Silly me." She pulled out the address and handed it to him. "I'm not joking, he was covered in a fine layer of flour. I so want to know what happened in that place."

Fury smiled and said, "The man has some skills." He pocketed the address. "I'll have it to you once I get to it."

"Thank you, sir," she murmured with a grin, getting up from the table.

It wasn't until she was in the restroom that Clint asked, "Do you have plans for her, sir?"

"Of course I do," he replied. "I do believe that the Avengers could use a magic user, don't you?"

…

They were silent for the first half an hour of the drive. Hermione thinking that Phil might be upset and Phil wondering what he could ask without insulting her.

"I'm sorry," she told him. "If there was anyone I should have told, statute of secrecy or not, it should have been you."

Shocked, he asked, "Why? What makes me so special to know?"

"Because I work not only for SHIELD, but you. And you're not only my boss, but my friend. You're the first one I tell anything to other than Harry and his wife."

He nodded to that. "And you're so far the only person I've let touch Lola."

"She's a beauty," she murmured with clear understanding. "She needs to be treated with care."

"Exactly," he said quietly. "So tell me the truth. Is the reason you don't know how to drive worth a damn because you're magical?"

She gave him a mischievous grin and said, "I wish I could say that was it, but I can't even fly on a broom with any skill never mind drive a car."

He was silent a moment before asking, "That war you spoke of…"

"It was a magical war," she told him. "I lost more than a few friends in it."

He flicked a look at her. "PTSD?"

"Of course," she sighed. "Along with a few other traumatic things, leaving me with not only physical scars but mental ones as well."

Phil was silent a moment before he muttered, "You were so damn young."

There was no arguing with that. It was the truth. They had been so damn young. This brought up questions though—if they hadn't fought for their rights, not only to their magic but the right to live, what would have happened? No, Hermione thought, they had to fight, not only for themselves, but for everyone.

"You've been in battle," she said quietly. "You know what price everyone pays. And you weren't all that old yourself when you started to do so. Would you expect anything less of me?"

"Of course not," he sighed. "But is it so wrong that I wish you didn't have to go through that?"

Smiling softly, she said, "Just as long as it's okay that I wish the same for you as well."

He nodded to that. "Fair enough."

She was silent for a moment and asked, "You really won't tell me what happened in that gas station minimart?"

He nearly grinned. "No."

"Just for that I should make you listen to my music selection," she told him.

Rolling his eyes, he said, "Fine. Put in your disc."

Soon enough the Clash was playing and she was rocking her head to the tunes. In truth, he liked her musical tastes, but Phil wasn't about to tell her that or she would actually press for more music time while traveling. He might like it, but that didn't mean that he wanted to hear it all the time.

The Clash song finished and an old time radio show about Captain America started to play, shocking Phil.

"I went over to the Museum of Radio and Television. They allowed me to make some copies of the old broadcasts of some of the shows. I was even able to get a few of the Newsreel audio as well."

He blushed as he asked, "How did you know?"

"I'm your admin, Phil. I have been for some time now," she murmured. "If I didn't know you had a deep love for our national icon by now, I wouldn't be very good at my job."

His face went scarlet. "I-I…"

"He's your hero and there's a part of you that wants to have his babies if you could. And that's okay too."

He frowned. "Clint told you that."

"Of course he did." She smiled. "If it means anything, I have a tattoo of a Bucky Bear on my arse." He blinked at her, as she explained, "My Gran had loads of photos of the Captain as well as all of the men working with him. The first time I saw a photo of Bucky…" She sighed as only a lovelorn teen could, pressing a hand to her chest. "…he just melted my twelve year old heart. My feelings about the man may have matured with me, but they're still there as displayed by my need to get that damn bear tattooed on me when I managed to get drunk off that same said arse."

That had him laughing and both relaxed for the road trip ahead.

 **TBC…**

 **…**

 **Another chapter done! Wow, this is moving faster than I thought. Thanks for joining me for the ride and I hope you all are having a wonderful day.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the MCU or any of the characters therein. And, sadly, I make no moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.**

 **Next chapter! Yeah, it's moving fast. But that's okay. Keep cool and enjoy the ride!**

 **…**

 **Chapter Eleven**

 ** _SHIELD Headquarters_**

 ** _4:45 pm April 8_** ** _th_** ** _, 2012_**

All hell was breaking loose on the SHIELD compound. Even so Hermione being half asleep either didn't notice or wasn't able to. Coulson found her drifting about as if a leaf on the wind—never really settling and never allowing the people about her to cause her much concern as she went on her way once again.

He rushed over to her side, taking her by her arm and pulled her over towards the evacuation truck. He helped her up and joined her up inside, sitting on the end of the bench seating. When she took note to how he was watching the road, fear clear in his features she looked over as well. At the sight of the road vanishing, she stood up holding herself steady as she snapped out her wand and proceeded to hit the road with a spell to stop it from collapsing.

Looking over to a shocked Phil, she told him, "It's only a temporary fix! The spell can only last for five minutes or so!" She looked back over towards the road, adding, "That was a tunnel cave in, wasn't it?!" He nodded. "Get whomever is in there out of there! They have less than…" She looked at her watch. "Merlin! They have four and a half minutes now!"

He got onto the phone and ordered anyone in the tunnels to get out A.S.A.P.. As soon as he was off of the phone, he saw that Hermione was sitting back down next to him, looking through her purse. She reached into it and pulled out a tray of her homemade granola bars.

"Who here needs something in their stomachs as much as I do?" She handed Phil a bottle of water, as well as one of the granola bars. "As soon as we get parked somewhere for longer than five minutes, I'll make us some coffee. It'll be instant, but it beats nothing."

"Why haven't you asked her to marry you?" came from Sitwell across from them.

"Didn't you hear? He's dating this woman in Portland," Hermione told him. "A cellist."

"Really?" he asked, arching his brow. "Is it serious?"

"It must be, as he wants her as far from his work as humanly possible," she said, looking over towards Phil, whose face was completely shut down. "But enough about his love life, Jasper, are you still dating that contortionist?"

Sitwell's face went a florid red at those words. "I was never dating a contortionist."

"Then whatever did you mean to say when you told Mason that your last date was, and I quote, more flexible than a rubber band, end quote?"

Sitwell looked over towards Coulson, who was giving him the patented glare of death at those words.

"Like I said, Mr. Coulson. I do need those noise canceling headphones. If only so I don't have to listen to 'guy talk'." She sighed, looking over towards her boss. "They respect Natasha, more than likely because she can kill them with her thighs of doom, but they just don't see me as a threat and I hear everything—whether I wish to or not." She frowned. "Unless I'm caught up in one of my projects. I've been known to walk into walls then."

"You always are working on something," Phil said.

"More times than not, but I keep hearing about how I have a sweet ass at the oddest of moments," she replied. "It may be lovely, but honestly I don't need to hear about it at work."

"Why haven't you ever complained about them before?" Phil inquired.

"Boys will be boys," she sighed.

"I'm not a boy!" Sitwell snapped.

"Then bloody well stop acting like one!" she shot back at him.

"Enough you two," Phil told them. He handed out orders, telling Hermione, "You'll be with me, Fury wants you on my six."

She nodded to this, even as Sitwell complained that she hadn't the training to have anyone's six let alone Phil's. Hermione said nothing as the truck came to a stop and everyone evacuated it. It wasn't until the agent that had been complaining about her was well out of everyone's way that she magically dumped water on him from out of nowhere without him ever knowing it was her that had done so.

Phil, on the other hand, was a different story. "Did you have to do that?"

"He was being a prat," she told him. "Of course I did."

…

 ** _Stark Tower_**

 ** _8:50 PM April 8_** ** _th_** ** _, 2012_**

Hermione walked briskly next to Phil to the lift, wishing that coffee—any sort—was available at that moment. The night before she had next to no sleep due to work on her latest biography she was writing about an English mathematician. That being said she wasn't expecting the world to be on the brink of being taken over by a megalomaniac and his mind washed minions. If Clint were there, he would have told her that she should have known better than to think it wouldn't happen. Wrapping her arms around herself, she started to pull herself together and went back to hoping that she would get coffee sometime soon.

"We're going to be picking up Captain America after getting some sleep," Phil told her, sounding as excited as a schoolboy thinking of meeting his hero.

"Phil?" He looked over to her. "If you get creepy, I'll be slapping your head."

He nodded. "It's for the best."

"Yes, because the last thing any of us need is a national icon thinking you're a stalker."

His face flooded with color, muttering, "I'm not that bad."

"Trust me." She watched him pulling out his cellphone to call Stark. "You are."

"Thanks," he said dryly. "He's not answering. Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir?" The British voice had Hermione's head shooting up and looking around.

"I need to see Mr. Stark," he told the bodiless voice and proceeded to give him the bypass code. "Let us off on his floor, please."

"Of course, sir."

"Excuse me? Mr. Jarvis?"

"Yes, Dr. Granger?"

"Could you be a luv and have a coffee waiting there for me?"

"I'll see what I can do, Doctor."

"Thank you," she murmured, looking over to Phil who was looking at her. "What?"

"You asked for coffee? You've already had two."

"I only slept an hour yesterday. I'll more than likely be sleeping as much as I can between now and when we get onto the helicarrier."

"You don't sleep all that much as it is. What was it this time keeping you up?"

"George Boole."

"Never mind," he sighed. "I wonder why I bother asking."

"Because you care," she told him just as the doors to the lift opened.

"I blocked you!" Tony snapped.

"I overrode it," Coulson said, as both he and Hermione exited the elevator.

"Hello, Phil," came from a willowy redhead who was getting up from her seat.

"His first name is Agent!" Tony said as he leapt to his feet. "Hey, gorgeous. What are you doing here?" He went over to Hermione. "You look half dead on your feet."

"The world is in danger, and anyone that's anyone is being pulled in. I am in dire need of that coffee I asked your man Jarvis for." He looked over towards the bar where a coffee was waiting at the coffee machine in an insolated to-go cup. Tony pointed over towards it. "Bless you!" She rushed over to the coffee as Phil and Tony spoke. It wasn't until she was half finished with her drink that she saw that the woman was watching her quite intently. "Hello. I'm sorry I'm being so rude. I'm Dr. Granger…"

She went wide eyed and looked over to Tony. "This is Minnie?"

"That's not my name," Hermione said.

Tony turned to her and announced, "I've seen your ass. That gives me permission to call you what I want."

"Just because you were there when I got an ill-advised, drunken tattoo on my arse, doesn't give you liberty to go off and call me what you want." She looked back over to the woman, who appeared to be on the verge of laughter. "You may call me Hermione…" She glared at Tony. "…as it is my name."

"Call me Pepper," she said with a grin.

"But your name is so long and boring!"

"Three syllables isn't long."

"I'm American. I have a short attention span."

She rolled her eyes and went over to Phil. "Here. You need caffeine nearly as badly as I do."

"Thanks," he said quietly, sipping it. "So do you have what you need to start the work?"

"Yeah," he said, as he went over to his computer and plugged in the thumb drive.

"Can we give you a lift anywhere, Pepper?"

"Yes!" came from the woman.

Even as Tony was snapping out a, "No!"

"See you later, Tony," Hermione said. "Hopefully I'll be more rested before you see me again."

"Will you be helping out with the work?"

"If you have math to do, I'm your girl," she told him, giving him a finger wave as the elevator doors closed.

 **TBC…**

 **…**

 **And there's another chapter strolling into the park that is the Internet. Thank you for taking the time to read my story. If you could, please review. Take care and I hope that you're all having an excellent day.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the MCU or any of the characters therein. And, sadly, I make no moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.**

 **Hello! And welcome to the next chapter. Read. Enjoy. Review!**

 **…**

 **Chapter Twelve**

 ** _S.H.I.E.L.D. Quinnjet_**

 ** _7:45 AM April 9_** ** _th_** ** _, 2012_**

Hermione walked onto the quinjet, smiling at the sight of Bruce. She went over to him and the two hugged.

"How are you?" she asked him, pulling back from him.

"I was good," he said quietly. "Are you here to help find the tesseract as well?"

"I'm here because of him," she said, pointing her thumb over towards Phil. "But I'll be helping where and when I can though."

"That's good," he murmured. "I read your last book. It was amazing."

Smiling she said, "You're one of the five people that read it. Thank you for that. At least now I know my publisher won't be upset that only three read it like the one before it." She turned to look over to the blond man looking out the window only to see Phil hovering like a demented fan next to him. "Pardon me a moment." She went over to Phil, telling him, "Don't make me have to slap you."

He blushed, stepping back from the blond man that turned to look at them. Hermione smiled as she reached out her hand to him. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Steve Rogers," he said, shaking her hand.

"It's nice to meet you at last. My Gran speaks of you often," she told him.

His face flushed, as he said, "I guess she must have seen me at one of the shows or something."

"Actually, you and she worked together. My Gran is Margaret Carter…"

Shock reflected in his face. "Peggy?"

She nodded. "I have some things for you, by the way. When we have time, I'll give them to you." Hermione looked back over to Phil, who was speaking to Natasha in the pilot's seat. "He puts the fan in fanatic, but he's a good sort. If he gets creepy again, let me know and I'll slap his head."

Smiling, he said, "Thanks."

"It's all a part of the service," she assured him. "There is one thing I do need to ask. It's nothing personal…" She looked over towards Phil stepping back towards Steve before asking, "Do you by any chance know what having someone's six means?"

He nodded and said, "It means that you have their back."

She looked relieved as she admitted, "I thought that was it, but do you know how embarrassing it would have been to have to ask?"

"I have something of a clue," he told her. "I have a notebook filled with things I don't know."

She nodded in understanding, going back over to sit next to Bruce. It was with a yawn that she leaned her head onto his shoulder.

"Let me know when we get there, would you?"

"Sure," he murmured, slipping his arm over her shoulders. "Get some more sleep while you can."

She mumbled that he was the best pillow before drifting off to sleep.

…

 ** _S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier (Temporary Headquarters)_**

 ** _8:50 AM April 9_** ** _th_** ** _, 2012_**

Hermione watched as Tony Stark made like he was the king. He was wondering how Fury could steer the helicarrier before moving on to speaking to Bruce. They went to walk away, as she looked over to Phil. He nodded for her to go with them to which she gave a single nod in turn and went on her way with them.

She entered the lab, letting out a long sigh of relief.

"Give me the science any day," she said, making the men laugh. "What do you need?"

"Can you find me some organic blueberries?" Tony asked him.

Frowning, she said, "I think I have some. Let me check." She looked over to Bruce. "What about you?"

"Tea would be nice."

"I have that herbal tea you like. A pot or just a mug?"

"Just a mug would be…"

"Wait a minute! How do you know what teas he likes?"

She snorted. "And you call yourself a genius." Hermione left without even bothering to answer.

Tony looked over towards Bruce, his eyes asking what he wanted to know.

"She's helped me a few times," he said casually. "Got me the papers I needed…She got me everything now that I think about it."

Tony went over to stand next to him, asking, "Do her employers know what she did?"

"She said that she wouldn't tell them, but if they asked, she wouldn't lie either. So I don't know."

"They were able to find you…"

"Through no help from me," Hermione told them, as she handed two bags of organic blueberries to Tony along with a bottle of water. She put a travel mug of tea next to Bruce, telling him, "Knowing how you are, you'd let it go cold if I didn't give you that to keep your tea warm."

He gave her a quiet thank you and went back to work. She looked over towards Tony, who was back to his work. She went over to look over the numbers they were dealing with. Math was hardly an issue from what she could see. Then why have her there with them, Hermione asked herself. To keep an eye on them, she wagered.

"These blueberries are great. Where did you get them?" Tony asked her.

"A friend of mine grows them," she answered, looking up from the writing she was doing. "Certified organic."

"So I was wondering," Tony said, studying her. "Why didn't you tell me that you knew Bruce?"

"It never came up," she replied. "I bet you know the president of the United States. But I don't know with certainty because I never have asked."

"Anyone who reads a gossip mag knows that much." She looked to him flatly. "Never mind. Forgot who I was speaking with for a moment." He went off to speak to Bruce about how turning into the big green guy more than likely saved his life. Tuning them out she went on to continue to write until she was pulled back into the conversation again. "…that goes for you too! You'd love it there. And I always have room for a mathematician that's nearly as smart as I am."

"No stealing my admin, Mr. Stark," Coulson said, joining them. "Hermione, I have something for you to do."

She nodded and went away with him, telling the men, "Now behave yourselves while I'm gone. No making a mess and remember to put away your crayons, Tony."

"For you? Always, sweetheart!" he called back to her. Tony looked over to Bruce once she was gone, telling him, "I've seen her ass naked."

…

Hermione didn't rejoin Bruce again until after Tony left to go over to Germany with Nat and Captain America. She sat down at one of the desks, pulling up her work once again. She was writing again, as well as looking over the men's work when Bruce spoke to her.

"Tony tells me he's seen your ass."

Her head came up and she muttered, "I swear that will be the first and the last time that man ever sees me getting a tattoo on my backside." She looked over to Bruce, who was now chuckling to himself. "And before you ask, I got a Bucky Bear."

"Only you!" he said, turning to look at the work again.

She went over to him wrapping her arms around him, asking, "Do you want to meditate? I know of a great place for you to get in a few minutes of 'you' time and I can make sure that you'll have privacy."

Leaning into her hug, he murmured, "I'm good." He paused a moment before asking, "You don't help me because you feel sorry for me, do you?"

"No." He turned around to face her, but she didn't change her answer. "And if you ask that again, I'll tell Tony you've seen more than my ass naked."

He blushed, saying, "I accidently walked into the bathroom when you were showering."

Grinning, she winked and told him, "But he wouldn't know that."

Wrapping his arms around her, he said, "You're the best." He kissed her temple. "Don't let anyone tell you differently, not even yourself."

Closing her eyes, she murmured, "You're wonderful for my ego."

…

When the small group that had gone out to Germany to see to Loki came back, it was clear that there had been some sort of confrontation between them. Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, and now Thor—all alpha males and all looking to be top dog in a group that should work as a team rather than individuals who could fake it well.

"The Avengers can work," came from Phil standing next to her.

"Yes, but someone forgot to hang the sign on the front door informing them to check in their egos there," she said dryly. Looking over to him, she added, "Phil, until they can work things out and learn to play in the same sand box, as it were, they are going to be clashing."

"They need something to work towards," he muttered. "Something worth fighting for."

"Preaching to the choir," she told him.

"Son of Coul," Thor said, joining them at the computer. "I know of the lady you are speaking to, but never had the pleasure of meeting."

"Lady Hermione Granger, daughter of Jean," she murmured with a small curtsy as she extended her hand to him.

Thor smiled, taking her hand and air kissing the back of it. "You were able to protect my Lady Jane when I was on Midgard last. I wished to thank you for protecting not only her, but my friends as well."

"Is it not what all must do? Help protect those who cannot do so against foes greater than themselves?" He nodded to this. "It is only the right thing."

"You are a shield maiden?"

"I have fought in a war, if that is what you mean." When it looked like he wanted to ask about it, she said, "I don't speak of it, if I can help it."

Fury stepped over to her, leaning down and murmuring, "I want you to speak to Loki."

"It's highly doubtful that he'll wish to speak to me, other than insult me that is."

"Do it anyway. I want to see his reaction to you."

"Very well," she sighed, looking around. "Anyone have a trashy romance novel I can borrow?" One of the computer guys looked around and lifted his hand. "Thanks. I'll get it back to you when I'm done with this."

 **TBC…**

 **…**

 **Another chapter is torpedoing its way onto the Internet. Thanks for reading and I hope that you're all having a glamorous day.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the MCU or any of the characters therein. And, sadly, I make no moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.**

 **Another chapter coming your way from (insert radio station here)! Enjoy!**

 **…**

 **Chapter Thirteen**

"Aren't you going to question me?" Loki inquired, but she didn't so much as acknowledge that he had spoken to her. "Hello!"

She just happened to look up at him in that moment. She yanked out her earbud, inquiring, "I'm sorry. Did you say something?"

He glared at her. "Clearly I'm wasting my time attempting to speak to you."

"Yes, more than likely." She popped in the earbud again. What he didn't know was that the listening devices weren't plugged into anything, nor was she reading anything in the book in front of her. He didn't need encouragement to talk. The moment he got bored—which would be any minute—he would start a rant that would give them some answers. Perhaps not all of them, but at least give them a clue or two.

"All of you mortals are so self-absorbed into your nonsensical whims," he muttered. "You're made to be ruled."

When she didn't bite at his bait, he frowned. She wasn't paying any attention to him at all. He cloned himself and was next to her invisible. Her head came up slowly and she looked straight into his stunned green eyes.

"Lovely glamour, but get back into the cell," she told him, pulling out her earbud again.

"Or what?" he asked.

"Myth has it that you are a frost giant," she said casually.

His eyes went hard. "Myths are but tall tales told to infants."

She smiled even as she stood up. "Sore spot?

"How can you see me?" he demanded.

"Consider it one of the mysteries of the universe," she replied, sitting down in a new spot. "Now if you don't mind, I want to read crap and think of nothing while really thinking over my work. You know how that goes." She looked at him. "I guess you don't. Never mind."

"I work!" he roared. "I planned this magnificent chaos!"

"You planned on getting caught? Why…" She stopped herself. "You know what. I don't want to know. You have your reasons and that should be enough."

"Your interrogation methods need work," he sneered.

"That's the problem. I'm not interrogating you," she said casually. "You think I have an important job?" She scoffed. "I'm an administrative assistant. The only reason why I have clearance here is because my boss might at one time or another come over here." She put the earbud back in.

"But that doesn't tell me why you're here." She didn't answer him. He rushed at her as if to attack, but she just looked at him flatly.

"Don't make me upset," she told him. "Something tells me you wouldn't like it."

"A little girl such as yourself cannot defeat me!" he snarled.

What Loki hadn't noticed the flames snaking up his legs thanks to the Zippo lighter she had in hand that she had released the gas for a time as she had been speaking and then lighting it. Once he did feel them, he screamed in pain and popping back into the cell, slapping at his legs until the fire was out.

She stood up, going over to the glass barrier and tapped on it with a single finger. "You see us all like insects, do you not?"

"Little better than ants," he muttered.

She nodded to this, before saying, "There will come a time when I will say something to you. I just want you to know that when I do, it won't be out of need to insult, but rather to be informative."

Frowning he said, "Why are you telling me this?"

Smiling she said, "Because I'm an insufferable know it all."

Once she was out of the prison area, she stopped next to Phil.

"He could have and can escape any time he wants," she told him. "Which brings the question what is he about? What's so important that he needed to be captured and brought here? He has a reason for everything he does and says."

"This is no different," Phil said. "Fury is in with him now. Agent Romanov will be going in after him." He studied her a moment. "What exactly are you planning on telling him?"

"When the time comes, when all is said and done?" She smiled and said, "Did you know it is thought that there might be as many as twenty-two thousand different species of ants on this planet? There are those out there that can easily eat animals that are much bigger than a human."

"Meaning?"

"Never underestimate the ants."

…

Numb. Hermione felt utterly numb. Physically that is, as the medicine that they gave her to take Hermione to have gotten him enough out of the way that Loki's staff only got his shoulder. To say that he had been shocked to have had Hermione apparate directly next to Coulson and save his life it was an understatement.

Needless to say that Loki had tried to kill her. Loki and all his doppelgangers tried and failed as once he thought he had her cornered, he ended up being shot out of the ship by Coulson—someone he totally forgotten about in his frustrated attempt to do in Hermione. And although Loki may not have gotten in a killing shot, he did get her arms more than a few times.

Looking over towards Phil, she said, "I feel like he used one of those meat tenderizers you said you wanted for your BBQ kit on my arms."

He looked over the wound on his own left shoulder. "He tried to make us into human tartar."

She was silent in the bed next to him a moment before asking, "Are you sick and tired of lying about already? Because I know I am."

"Do you have something that will get us moving?"

"Yes."

"Let's do it then."

The two of them took several potions and soon enough they were both healed. It was decided that she go gather the troops, while he went about getting them a ride to wherever it was they were going to have to go to. She found them all at the conference table with Director Fury lecturing them. He had them thinking that Phil was dead and that the Avengers were to—what? avenge him or something? She didn't know at that point and frankly she didn't care just as long as she got them all together and out the door to the quinjet that Phil was going to liberate for them to use.

"Hermione…" She turned to look at Clint.

Without a word, she went over to him and hugged him tightly. She kissed his cheek, telling him, "I've been going out of my head worrying about you." She framed his face, looking him over. "You okay?"

"No," he admitted quietly. "I-I…"

"That wasn't you," she told him. "Loki took over your mind. He used you as a tool." She made him look her in the eyes and went on to say, "You've gone through a lot. And I can stand here lecturing you for the next week, but I know you'll not believe a word of it. You know why you won't?"

He shook his head no.

"Because you're a good man," she pressed. "And good men take on the mantel of responsibility sometimes even when it's not even theirs to take."

Clint sighed heavily, resting his head against hers. "Phil…"

That was when she switch to sign language. _"He's alive."_

Clint blinked at her in shock, signing back, _"But…"_

She cut him off signing, _"We both got a few cuts, but he's alive and warming up the quinjet as we speak."_ Looking over to Nat, she signed, _"Get the team together and met us out in five."_ Hermione looked over to the Director, asking, "Do I have to get you a snow globe, sir?"

It looked like he was going to protest, but ended up saying, "No, but I wouldn't say no to a T-shirt."

"Black in a size extra-large?"

"Just a large will do."

"Of course, sir." She looked over towards Tony and the Captain. "Come on. I need for you to show me the best way to get to Time Square."

"A waste of time, sweetheart," Tony told her as they all left the conference table and went walking towards the flight deck. "My tower, on the other hand, is well worth it."

Once they were at the quinjet, Tony looked like he was ready to go right back over to kick Fury's ass. Hermione prevented him from doing as much by grabbing him by his suit neck and pulling him back on board.

"Where to?" Phil asked.

Hermione looked over towards Tony, Steve, Nat, and Clint. "Well, you heard the man. Where to?"

"As close to my building as you can get," Tony told him. "How did…" Hermione yanked off the jacket she was wearing revealing her cut riddled arms. "God, Hermione, what the hell?!"

"Loki tried to tenderize me as well as Agent Coulson," she muttered, as she went over to the first aid kit. "Nat, can you help me remove the stitches?"

"Of course," she said, as she went over and did just that.

"They're already healed?" Steve asked, even as Clint went over to help out with removing the stitches as well.

"Ah, sweetheart," Clint muttered. "Just how many times did he stab you with that thing?"

"I lost count," she admitted, looking into his eyes. "I really pissed him off." Hermione let out a hiss when a stitch at the bend of one of her elbows stuck a bit. "We picked up coms from the helicarrier and are over to the side of the seating, Steve."

He looked and found them. "Got it!" He pulled out the metal carrier for them and handed them out to Natasha, Clint, and Phil.

"Take one, Hermione," Phil ordered. "You'll need to be a part of communications."

She took it, looking at it for a moment. "That's great. Does this mean it comes with instructions as well?"

Laughing Tony went over and explained how it worked and popped it into her ear for her.

"So do tell, Dr. Math, how is it that you and Mr. Personality healed up so fast?" Tony asked her.

"It was a bunch of things," Hermione said casually, flinching when the last of the stitches were taken out. "Thank you, Clint. Thank you, Natasha. As soon as we've landed, you're going to have to help Agent Coulson with his stitches as well."

"You're welcome," he said, kissing her temple. "Now tell us what the hell happened?"

"I managed to piss him off when he found out I was a witch," she said casually. "And I really pissed him off when I set him on fire more than once. Then the ninja shot him out of the helicarrier. That was fun." She looked to Steve, shaking her head no and making it clear that was far from the case.

"Wait…you're a witch? Like you do magic?"

"Honestly, I think that the title of 'witch' is incorrect. But it's been misused for over a millennia…" she shrugged. "That's something that it's going to take more time than I want to waste…"

"You're a witch. You do magic." Tony glared at her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"There's the statute of secrecy and if not for Phil's life being in danger, the issue wouldn't have come up." She pursed her lips and went on to say, "ETA?"

"Ten minutes," Phil called back.

"What's the plan?" she asked of them all. "You do have a plan, don't you?"

"We go out there, find Bruce and Thor, and kick ass," Natasha said.

"Short and to the point," Tony said. "I like it." He looked over his Iron Man suit. "Needless to say, I'm going to have to get a new outfit."

A spark went off from his suit even as Hermione said, "You're only saying that so you'll look pretty for the cameras."

Tony winked at her. "You know it."

"Captain will take lead," Coulson said from the front. "Hermione and I will set up a headquarters."

"Where?" Hermione asked him.

"We'll figure that out once we see what's going on," he told her.

"You'll set up over at my building," Tony told them. "You'll have a view of everything from there."

"But isn't that ground zero?" Hermione inquired.

"See? No better place to be!" Tony said with a grin. "And afterwards, we can get drunk tattooed again!"

Hermione just stared at him a moment. "Phil…"

"She isn't getting another one!" he snapped. "Unless this time it's Captain America."

"I think it should be Iron Man," Tony told him.

"There's not enough booze in the world for that," Hermione muttered, making Clint chuckle even as Tony was pointing to her.

"We'll see about that!"

 **TBC…**

 **…**

 **Another chapter is away! Thanks for reading and I hope that you're having a brilliant day.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the MCU or any of the characters therein. And, sadly, I make no moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.**

 **Here we are at the end of our road trip. Enjoy.**

 **…**

 **Chapter Fourteen**

 ** _Stark Tower_**

 ** _End of the Battle of New York_**

Hermione walked over to Loki. He lay prone in the indented floor right where the Hulk had left him. Smiling she went over to the Hulk, hugging him.

"Great job, Hulk," she murmured. "You smashed him beautifully."

"Puny god," he muttered, but hugged her nonetheless. "Stay here. Keep safe."

Phil joined them with his gun in hand, watching as Hermione assure the Hulk that he was a good guy. Soon enough the Avengers joined them and soon were circling around the fallen god.

He spoke about wanting the drink he had been offered even as Hermione stepped closer to him. He glared at her even as she asked, "Do you recall what I said to you? That there would come a time when I would tell you something?"

He looked at her in anger. "I'm not a dolt. So yes, I recall…"

Her foot lashed out, kicking his head so that his head hit the floor hard. She went over to him, yanking his head up by his hair as she snarled, "Ants are far more powerful than you'll ever know. You should stop underestimating them." She slammed his head back onto the ground, stepping back over towards Hulk as she told him, "You're right." Glaring back over towards Loki, even as Hulk was smiling broadly. "Puny god."

…

 ** _Stark Tower_**

 ** _Three days later…_**

Hermione should have known that Phil was up to something when he approached her with Tony and Bruce in tow. It had been three days after the battle of New York and she had been going out to help with the cleanup. The others would join her from time to time to help out as well. Mostly Clint, but he had left to go back home that day and he wasn't looking so good. With any luck, Laura would be able to help him along with his issues of having his mind controlled by Loki.

She was in the middle of getting cleaned up when Tony, Bruce and Phil came into the guest room she was using at the tower. Hermione looked at all of them, as she was wiping the water off of her hands and face. They all looked very serious—even Tony, which made her wonder what was going on.

"I've been reassigned," Phil told her. "I won't be needing an admin where I'm going." That hit her hard.

"Okay," she said quietly. "What are you going to be doing?"

"A mobile unit…"

"A Bus," she murmured to which he nodded.

She didn't hear them speaking for a time. Tony was speaking to her as was Bruce, but nothing was coming through. She looked to Phil, asking, "Do you have a pilot yet?"

Her quiet words cut across what the other two men were saying, stopping them from speaking.

"Not yet," Phil answered. "Why?"

"Get Melinda May," she told him. "I wouldn't trust anyone else to have your back."

"I'll do that," he said.

"I'm going to miss you," she told him. "You're the only ninja I like."

That had his lips twisting into a very subtle smile.

"Will you come visit me even if I'm being all sciency and stuff?"

"Yes, you know I will."

"If only for the coffee, right?"

That had him going over to her and the two hugged. They said their farewells and he went on his way. Hermione sighed heavily, as a part of her life came to an end and a new part was about to begin.

"So are you taking the job?" Tony asked her.

"What would I be doing?" she inquired of him.

"Double checking math, I'll start publishing your writing and actually making sure more than Bruce and I read it this time, and you'll be keeping me out of trouble!"

She blinked at him and looked over to Bruce, "Is that a part of your job description as well?"

"I'm pretty sure he had it put into the contract while I wasn't looking," he answered. "Well?"

"I get a place to live where you don't care that I write on the walls."

"Sure. Not a problem," he answered, but paused and asked, "You write on the walls?"

"And you don't?" she shot back.

"That's what computers are for!"

"True, but if you wake up in the middle of the night, you actually have to go to your labs, don't you?"

"No. Like I said that's what computers are for."

Rolling her eyes, she said, "And the pay?"

"Will be well worth it," Bruce was the one to answer.

Sighing she replied, "Okay. I'll work for you. What do you say we go over to Henry's and we celebrate me getting a real job outside of SHIELD?"

"Sounds like a plan," Tony said. "And after that you're getting a tattoo!"

Smiling casually, she said, "You first."

 **The End!**

 **…**

 **And that's all, folks! Thank you, everyone, for joining me for the ride. The journey was made all the more fun because of the company. Take care and may the winds of good fortune blow your way.**


End file.
